


Sweet Revenge

by AnnaHawk



Series: Always time for coffee [12]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Food, Hand & Finger Kink, Light Bondage, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking, Teasing, always time for coffee series, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaHawk/pseuds/AnnaHawk
Summary: Frank shows you exactly what he thinks of being teased while attending dinner at Mark's new restaurant.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Original Female Character(s), Frank Castle/Reader, Frank Castle/You
Series: Always time for coffee [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1366675
Comments: 21
Kudos: 61





	Sweet Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a long time coming.  
> A lot of us have a huge thing for Frank's hands/fingers but some of you also have a thing for spanking apparently. This is for all my girls who were longing for something of the sort. You know who you are, lovelies 🧡
> 
> If you've been following this series, you know that you'll find some food talk as well. I can't seem to stop myself from adding all those details 😅.
> 
> Please enjoy 😉

“Hey, Frank?” You call from the bed on which you’re sitting while you’re putting on your shoes. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Jeez, gimme a sec,” Frank grumbles through the bathroom door. 

Done with your shoes, you stand to walk over to the door and lean a hand against it.

“You’ve been in there for over an hour. Even _I’ve_ taken less time,” you insist with a small laugh. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to come to that fancy party,” Frank grouses, his steps getting closer to the door. You step back when he opens it and comes to a stop in front of you. “ _And_ said that I needed new clothes.”

What you see has your mouth going slack in shock. The good kind of shock. The _best_ kind of shock. 

A few weeks earlier, Mark had invited you to attend the pre-opening of his new restaurant. He’d invited some friends, as well as the people he does business with, to introduce them to the dishes the Chef had come up with by using their products. Falling into both categories, you’d instantly been invited.

Frank is right about one thing. This new restaurant is fancier than Mark’s bistro, more high end. The Chef had worked in some well known one to three Michelin starred restaurants and from what you’d heard from Mark, the menu is exceptional. 

Of course, this had meant that when you’d asked Frank to join you and he’d accepted, he’d had to find some dress clothes. His jeans and Henley, though you love them very much, wouldn’t have been good enough for the expected dress code tonight. 

Except for a gray peacoat, he hadn’t shown you his purchases at all, and you’d been dying to find out what else he’d bought. You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s _not_ what you’d been looking at for the last few seconds. 

Frank is a simple man, who likes good and simple food, and doesn’t care for fancy and complicated things. Except for his beloved coffee of course. That’s why you’d been extremely pleased that he’d accepted to accompany you tonight. 

You’re even more impressed with his taste for clothes. 

Frank is a good-looking man. Rugged, but good-looking. With an impressive body. Tonight though, he looks nothing short of incredible. Frank had opted for fitted, black slacks and dress shirt, shiny dark belt and shoes, and a steel gray tie with some barely discernible red threads running through it lengthwise. His face is clean-shaven and his hair is styled in a way that looks effortless but probably took him some time. 

“You look amazin’.” Frank’s voice breaks through your shock. You blink and look from his tie to his eyes. 

“So do you,” you breathe. “Frank, you…” You trail off, at a loss for words.

“Guess I made a decent enough job if I gotcha speechless,” Frank laughs kindly, putting a warm hand on your hip and kissing your temple. 

He’s about to step around you, since you’re still not moving, when you grab his tie and tug him in for a hard kiss. It takes a lot of effort on your part not to deepen it. In this moment, with Frank looking so put together, you want nothing more than to push him on the bed, open his fly and ride him until you’re both spent. It would be so easy too, since you’re wearing a dress tonight. You’re also sure that Frank would love the sight of you wearing stockings with your lace panties. 

With a last press of lips, you push away from him and turn to walk out of the bedroom. 

“Let’s go, or we’re really going to be late,” you tell him, voice deeper from desire. 

“Yeah.” Is Frank’s one worded reply. You can hear his own arousal as well as smugness in it.

~

You take Frank’s truck to get to the location, the restaurant coming with a valet service so that you don’t have to struggle to find a parking spot. 

When you make it inside the restaurant, the party is already in full swing. Soft music is playing in the background and several tables have been pushed together to create one long table that has been set for dinner. 

A waiter meets you at the entrance to take your coats before pointing you in the direction of the bar where most of the guests are gathered. You take Frank’s hand and tug him towards the bar. You greet a few people in passing and head straight for Mark when you finally see him. He's nursing a glass of amber liquid and talking to another guest. 

Mark flashes his trademark charming grin when you reach him and hugs you warmly after putting down his glass.

“Glad you could make it,” he says, looking over to Frank and extending his hand. “Pete, it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too... The place looks great.” Frank says genuinely, shaking Mark’s hand.

Mark claps Frank on a shoulder with his other hand and beams at the compliment. 

“And it smells heavenly,” you add, taking in the delicious smells coming from behind the bar where you know the kitchen to be. 

“It does, right? You guys are going to love it.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at Mark’s excitement. Your shared love for food is still one of the topics that can keep you talking for hours. 

Mark is about to say something else when a waiter appears next to him and speaks to Mark in such a soft tone that only he can hear. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, I’m wanted in the kitchen… Please have a drink. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes,” Mark explains with a smile while slowly walking backwards before turning around and vanishing behind the bar. 

Mark is barely gone when the barman stops in front of you and asks for your order. Frank goes for a glass of Scotch, pleased at the selection that the restaurant has, and you ask for a glass of the champagne that they’re serving tonight. 

You observe Frank’s profile and sharp jawline as he leans on the bar with his elbows and takes a sip of his drink. 

“That’s some good stuff right here,” Frank hums, smacking his lips in delight. 

You’ve apparently been quiet for a second too long, because Frank turns his face to look at you questioningly. You quickly taste the champagne and nod a few times to confirm that you like your drink as well. One side of Frank’s mouth pulls into a slow, knowing smirk, the man stepping closer to you so that his side is brushing yours. One large hand lands in the center of your spine, before stroking down and coming to rest just over your lower back, thumb moving up and down. You take in a steadying breath and drink from your glass again, looking straight ahead. You’re both aware of your surroundings, so you know that Frank won’t take things further. You both love and hate that Frank is such a gentleman. Right now, you’re not sure which one of the two it is. 

“You’re bein’ awfully quiet tonight, Sweetheart,” Frank speaks softly into your ear, his deep voice sending waves of want down your body and to your core. 

Forget gentleman, the bastard is doing it on purpose. To prove your point, Frank kisses you lightly on the curve of your neck. 

“Just taking the place in,” you state with forced calm and a one shoulder shrug. 

You know that Frank isn’t going to buy this obvious lie but that’s fine. You turn your head to look at him and his eyes dip down to your lips, which part slightly at his scrutiny, before he lifts them to yours again. You can tell that he wants to close the distance between the two of you just as much as you do. 

“Alright everyone. Please take your seats. Dinner will be served in a second,” Mark announces suddenly from the entrance to the kitchen, making you and Frank break eye contact as you look over to Mark.

The small crowd of guests moves to the long table, people sitting down where their name tags are. You take this opportunity to peck Frank on the lips furtively, earning a soft smile from the man, and go to find your own seat. 

You find your name tag on the plate that sits on the left from where Mark’s name is, while Frank finds his in front of yours. You greet the woman who sits down on your other side while Frank takes off the blazer he put on under the coat. He drapes it over his chair, and nods to his two direct neighbors. 

“I hope you’re ready to be wowed,” Matt intones with a grin, addressing the table at large as he sits down. The fifty or so people present all smile or chuckle at his enthusiasm.

As soon as he’s spoken, six waiters start walking out with several plates in hand. The women are served before the men, so you’re one of the first to see what the entrée is. You look over to Frank who’s scrutinizing your plate with interest, before turning your head to Mark, who’s already watching you expectantly. 

“You really went all out.” You tap a finger against the beautiful plate the course is being served in. 

Mark smiles happily and nods. 

“I want to believe that I took as much time selecting the cutlery and the plates, as I did while going over the menu with Aaron,” he laughs, leaning away from the table so that the waiter can put a plate in front of him.

“I’m sure you did,” you chuckle, aware of Mark’s attention to detail, before taking your fork and knife in hand when he does the same. 

You face Frank again to see him looking at his own plate, hand over his fork. You smile. You cut into one of the three, large, homemade ravioli, impressed by the quality and thinness of the dough as well as by the fine, green and yellow stripes they have. You exchange the fork for a spoon to make sure that you also get from the green and foamy sauce the ravioli came with. You put the spoon in your mouth and close your eyes in pleasure when the taste of Swiss chard, goat cheese and fresh parsley hit your tongue. 

You lift your eyes to Frank and see him giving Mark an appreciative nod as he’s taking another spoonful of his ravioli. You turn to Mark once more to find him smiling in Frank’s direction and accepting more praise from other guests. Mark finally faces you and waits with raised eyebrows. 

“If the rest of the dishes are of that quality, which I don’t doubt for a second that they are, then you really did find an incredible Chef,” you declare, eating the second half of your ravioli and humming in delight. 

“I’m glad you think so.” Mark can’t stop smiling. 

You glance over to Frank, the man watching you as he’s cutting into his second ravioli. 

“I suppose you’re not regretting that you came with me?” 

“Not so far. Think I’ve never eaten pasta that tastes that good,” Frank agrees, spooning some sauce before adding said pasta to it.

This is how the dinner continues. Mark hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d praised his Chef again and again. You ask Mark how many courses you are to be expecting, and laugh when he tells you that you’re going to taste five different dishes, dessert included. Mark really wants his guests to have the full experience. 

You and Frank talk with one another and the other guests next to you, exchanging opinions on the food as well as small talk. Your eyes keep straying to Frank though, even when he’s engrossed in a conversation about football with one of his neighbors. At some point, the man says something that makes Frank laugh and your heart misses a beat at the sound. You sometimes think that you’ll never get used to the carefree way that Frank can behave. You have to squeeze your legs together though when Frank smirks, teeth flashing, and says something snarky that has the man he’s talking to laughing in turn and clapping Frank on the shoulder. You love it when Frank acts so confident without undermining the other person. When Frank groans after tasting the lamb chops that have been cooked to perfection in a fragrant herb crust, you’re ready to combust. 

You’ve been so focused on Frank, his relaxed behavior and his clothes, that you’ve barely been able to hold a real conversation with Mark or the other persons around you. Watching Frank enjoying himself like that while looking so devastatingly good, is making even the delicious food fall to the wayside. 

When Frank quickly looks at you after eating another piece of his lamb and winks before going back to his conversation, you decide that you won’t be the only one to feel so turned on anymore. 

Quickly coming up with an idea, you toe one of your shoes off and let it slowly slide to the opposite side of the table. You easily encounter Frank’s shoes, knowing you’ve touched his foot and not someone else’s when his eyes quickly go to you, right before returning his attention to his conversation partner. You wait a few seconds in which you have some lamb, before you let your stocking-ed foot slowly drift up one of Frank’s legs. You purposely keep your eyes down on your plate while you chew and see Frank’s face turning a fraction to look at you from your peripheral vision. Frank looks back to the man next to him and asks him to repeat himself before answering the renewed question. 

Frank’s fork stops for a brief second on its way to his mouth when your foot reaches his knee, but he otherwise ignores the progress that you’re making. You keep watching him covertly as he nods along to what his neighbor’s saying and your foot finally arrives between his legs. You clamp down on a grin when Frank takes a deep breath, and you see his jaw work. 

You finally look up, meeting his slightly narrowed gaze. You leave your foot on his chair, resting it against his thigh, and smile innocently as you cut another piece of your meat. You chew slowly, not moving. 

“I forgot to tell you that Aaron used some of your coffee beans for the dessert,” Mark tells you after you haven’t done anything but eat for a while and Frank has slowly done the same, still observing you though. 

You smile in Mark’s direction, delighted by the distraction he gives you so you can look away from Frank’s still suspicious stare. 

“He did?” you ask, genuinely pleased by that information. 

Mark had asked if he could keep ordering coffee through you for the new restaurant as well as for the Bistro, but you hadn’t known that the Chef would use the coffee beans in his kitchen. While you listen to Mark going over the different ideas that the chef had come up with, you gradually press the top of your foot against Frank’s crotch. You feel as well as see him jerk in his seat and restrain your desire to grin as you keep your attention on Mark. 

“Oh and by the way, you can let Sandra know that he was very impressed by her Paris-Brest. He said that he’d rarely had such delicate cream filling,” Mark declares right when you start rubbing over Frank’s crotch from one side to the other. 

Your grin is wide and honest from hearing that a starred Chef had made such wonderful comments about your friend’s baking abilities. Your smile is still growing though, because one of Frank’s hands just grabbed your ankle, large fingers wrapping around it and squeezing in warning. 

“That’s fantastic. She’s going to be over the moon after finding out. People have been raving about that hazelnut cream, but having it confirmed by a renowned Chef is incredible,” you enthuse, while not heeding Frank’s warning at all since you keep pushing and rubbing over his bulge. 

“Fully deserved praise,” Mark adds, to which you nod fervently. 

Frank, meanwhile, pulls your foot away a bit while he clears his throat and pushes his finished plate slightly from him. 

“Pete, I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Mark says with his usual bright smile.

You turn your head to Frank as well, seeing his eyes leaving your face to look at Mark instead. 

“Yes Frank, I hope so too,” you can’t help adding, biting your lower lip in a falsely coy way. 

Frank’s eyes drift to yours for a fleeting moment before they go back to Mark. In that short second though, you can see danger brewing in them. The best kind of danger. 

“Yeah. The food’s amazin’. I-” Frank breaks off because you’ve pushed back and are rubbing harder over him. You hide your gasp behind your sip of wine when his hand squeezes harder too. 

Frank clears his throat again before resuming what he’d wanted to say. 

“There’re a lot of taste associations I’ve never had before. I’m a simple kinda man y’know… But that lamb chop right here? I could get used to eating every day.” 

Mark grins, clearly pleased by Frank’s words. 

Another guest asks Mark something a moment later, so that you’re left with Frank staring at you darkly. 

“Quit it,” he says in a low tone, leaning forward over the table so that only you can hear him. 

“Quit what?” You ask sweetly, keeping eye contact and licking your lower lip. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You know that you’re being a little shit, but the fact that you can feel Frank hardening despite his gruff voice, makes you want to keep pushing for more. That he hasn’t removed your foot from his chair is even further proof that he doesn’t really mind what you’re doing. The same goes for him not fully restraining you. Frank is far stronger than you, so that holding your foot still shouldn’t be a problem. He’s not putting as much effort into it as he could. 

“Dessert is next,” you tell him, while taking a delicate sip from your wine and curling your toes over Frank’s dick. You can feel it filling out where it’s trapped behind his fly.

“You know you’re gonna have to face the consequences later, right, Sweetheart?” Frank’s fingers loosen their grip so that they’re only lying over your ankle. His voice is deep and calm. The calm before a storm. 

“I’ve told you before that I can handle it,” you reply with a small confident shrug. You relax against the chair, letting your now free foot to glide from the head to the base of his length teasingly. 

“And I’ve told you before that you don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” he counters with a smirk, putting both hands on the table in a way that clearly says, _‘Do your worst’_.

Not intending to give Frank the upper hand, you wait until dessert is served a few minutes later before changing tactics. In the meantime, you keep your movements slow and even.

The waiters bring small plates with what you discover to be a fine, round crust of shortbread made with roasted hazelnuts, topped with a half sphere of light coffee cream that’s striped with delicate chocolate. Next to it are three large molecular drops that taste like a delicious shot of coffee and to round it off, a long line of creamy caramel. 

You moan at the first taste you have and hear Mark laugh, pleased, next to you. 

“Told you, didn’t I?” He winks while eating a piece of the crust. 

“It’s perfect,” you nod, licking some caramel off your spoon and humming. 

Returning your attention to Frank, you watch him take one of the drops onto his spoon and eat it. His eyebrows rise before he looks at you and nods his appreciation. How couldn’t Frank like them. They really do taste like shots of coffee. 

You keep watching Frank as your foot moves again from where it had briefly stopped while tasting the dessert. His eyes lock with yours once more, challenge still there. Smiling sweetly, you slide your toes further between his spread legs and push them carefully under his balls. You curl your toes up and move them from side to side. You want to laugh at Frank’s full body jerk, satisfied that you got such a strong reaction. 

You slide your foot back and over his fully hard length, until you reach the head and apply more pressure there. You rub circles into it, curling your toes around it the best you can, before moving back down to the base. 

Frank is chewing methodically, eyes cast down over his dessert, breathing coming faster. You smirk. It seems like you’re up for his challenge after all. One of his hands even wraps around your ankle again, but this time he’s not stopping you. Rather, he’s moving your foot where he wants it. 

“Still think I don’t know what I’m doing?” You say under your breath after long minutes of this, and lean over your plate. 

Frank moves forward as well. 

“Never said you don’t know what you’re doin’... I’m sayin’ you don’t know what’s comin’ your way,” he growls darkly.

You feel a throbbing and delicious ache between your legs at his words. 

“Alright!” Mark exclaims next to you, all conversations stopping at once to listen to him. “I hope you all enjoyed yourselves. I’d love for you to meet the man who created those dishes for you tonight.” Mark stands when a man comes out of the kitchen, dressed in full Head Chef clothes, five sous chefs following him. “This is Aaron Cobb and his team.”

Loud applause, which you and Frank join, starts around the table. People stand from their seats, understanding that dinner is now over. Some walk to the Chef and team, others gather next to the bar for a quick drink, while others again talk to Mark and thank him for the evening. 

Not meeting Frank’s eyes, you finally take your foot away from between his legs and put your shoe back on. You stand and make your way to Mark who’s joined the Chef and is talking with several people, laughing joyously. You hear a chair scraping loudly behind you and smile to yourself smugly when Frank joins you after a few seconds, his blazer held in front of his waist. 

“You’re up for one last drink?” Mark asks when he sees you approach, the Chef nodding your way in greeting. 

You’re about to reply but Frank beats you to it.

“No.” It comes out somewhat curtly and Frank clearly notices. “Long day tomorrow, y’know,” he amends, tone friendlier this time. 

Mark doesn’t seem to be bothered at all by Frank’s refusal, nodding kindly in understanding. 

“Of course. I’ve heard that your job can be very intense,” Mark agrees and claps Frank on one shoulder. 

Frank makes a noncommittal sound and shrugs. 

“Dinner was absolutely delicious,” you address the Chef when there’s a small stretch of silence. 

“Thank you,” he says with a pleased smile. “ I hope that you enjoyed the dessert. The coffee beans are exceptional.” 

“It was amazing. I’ll make sure to let the seller know that you like their coffee that much. Tell them that they should stop by and have a taste.” 

Chef Cobb grins and nods his agreement. 

You make your goodbyes after you hear Frank clearing his throat pointedly and then leave to head to the entrance to get your coats. 

"You know that that was kinda rude, right? We could've stayed for one more drink or coffee," you say in fake reprimand as a waiter retrieves your coats. 

"What's rude is to expect me to keep playin' along to your game. You're only makin' it worse for ya," Frank rumbles, after you’ve dressed to go outside. 

"Are you going to punish me just because I couldn't hold back when you look so good?" You tease with a pull to his tie and a quick glance at his crotch. It’s now too dark outside to notice that there’s still a noticeable bulge there. 

Frank can't answer because a valet, who must have been called by the waiter who’d fetched your coats, drives Frank’s truck up the curb.

“Had your fun?” Frank asks after a couple of minutes of driving in silence, voice rough and dark. 

“I did,” you laugh, keeping your head against the headrest and turning your head to stare at Frank with a self-satisfied smirk. “Want me to keep going?” You reach a hand towards Frank’s crotch, but he slaps it away with a tsk-ing sound. You chuckle at his reaction. 

Licking your lips, you take the material of your dress in your hands and drag it up your legs until the bands of your stockings are visible. It’s dark in the car, but you know that Frank can see what you’re doing. You stroke a finger across the skin of one thigh, between the band and the dress, and between your legs, parting them slowly to fit your hand between them. 

You’re still watching Frank and see him glance at what you’re doing before his eyes have to go back to the road. 

Your grin.

Watching his sharp profile that gets highlighted by every streetlamp that you’re driving by, and the strong line of his neck, you glide a finger over your lace covered folds. Biting your lower lip, you release a loud sigh at the touch. There’s a sound of leather being gripped tight, and you know that Frank’s hands wrapped harder around the steering wheel. 

Frank takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to concentrate, the moment you slip a finger inside your panties and start rubbing lightly over your clit, uttering a soft moan. 

"Get inside," Frank nearly barks when you reach your building after a few minutes of intense silence on his part and pleased moans on yours. 

You lift an eyebrow. Usually Frank finds a spot, and you walk from it to your place together. You can guess what's going on though.

"Why? Afraid you'll fuck me in the elevator if we go in together?" You grin brightly. 

"Just get inside." His voice is low and dangerous. You really want to push him some more, but you finally get out of the car and walk up to the entrance doors to your building. Frank drives off like a maniac, and you chuckle at getting under his skin like that. 

Once you’re inside your apartment, you take the time to put away your coat and step out of your shoes. You also go into the bathroom to freshen up a bit and return to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. 

You just put the glass into the draining rack when your apartment door flies open. Frank _storms_ inside and slams the door. He throws his coat and blazer over one of the armchairs and is in front of you in a few strides of his long legs. He grabs you by the throat, slamming you into the nearest wall, before his lips are on yours and his tongue is pushing between your lips. 

He’s not giving you the slightest moment to do anything more than to go with what he’s doing. After holding you against the wall with his whole weight, every line of his strong body lining up with yours and leaving you with no escape, Frank wraps his fingers around your nape and drags you over to the couch. 

He pushes you onto it so that you have to catch your fall with your hands on the backrest. Amused, you turn around and laugh breathlessly, finding Frank standing in front of you, hands on his belt buckle. He’s panting as he’s removing the belt with quick movements, the shiny leather reflecting in the dim light of the living-room. You lick your lips at the way his cock strains against his fly. You slip off the couch and to your knees in front of him. Your hands go to open his pants as your mouth waters at the idea of getting your lips around him. 

What you’re not expecting, is for Frank to suddenly wrap the belt around your wrists, tightening it with the help of the buckle. Your eyes snap to his. The smile he shoots your way causes a thrill to run through your body. It’s dark and sinful, his eyes wild. 

“Up,” he growls, tugging on the belt so that you have little choice. 

Frank sits down on the couch, legs spread like always. You’re wondering for a second about what he’s going to do, when he pulls on your bound wrists again, so that you fall over his lap, landing face first on the couch. You turn your head to the side with a gasp. Frank manhandles you so that your knees are on the couch as well, thighs to lower torso over his lap, chest on the other side of his legs and arms above your head. 

Frank lifts your dress over your ass at the same time that you manage to get your elbows under you, pushing yourself up. Frank’s belt around your wrists isn’t making it easy. You’re about to get some leverage to rise to your knees as well when you receive a resounding slap to one of your lace covered ass cheeks. The shock is so strong since you hadn’t expected this, that you cry out and fall forward, chest and face on the couch again. 

“Stay,” Frank warns, one hand grabbing the cheek he just hit, before tracing the band of one stocking with his fingertips. 

“Stay?” you repeat, panting as you push to your elbows again. “Fuck you.” 

Frank’s hand lands on your other cheek. Having expected it this time, you manage to keep your balance, though you utter another yelp. 

“Stubborn as always, huh?” Frank states with a dark chuckle. 

You see his other hand reaching for your bound wrists and can only swear when he pulls them from under you so that you, once again, land face first onto the couch. Frank keeps your hands above your head with his, stopping you from moving up.

“Still think you can _handle_ it?” Frank questions, free hand coming down over both ass cheeks this time, making you gasp into the cushions. 

You turn your head to one side like you did a few minutes ago, facing the outside of the couch, breaths coming fast as your body’s still reeling from the previous slaps. You laugh, his intentions finally clear to you. From the way that your skin is tingling, you know that despite Frank’s words, he’s still holding back. He would never hit you hard enough to harm you. Not without your full consent. 

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, getting your body to relax for what’s to come. 

“Show me what you got, _Castle_ ,” you reply at last, egging him on. 

A deep humming sound, nearly growl-like, comes from Frank and vibrates through your whole body. 

“Remember...” You hear the grin in Frank’s voice when he speaks. “You asked for it.”

Smirking with your eyes still shut, you wait for the next slap. Except that it doesn’t come. 

Instead of pleasurable pain to explode over your skin, Frank quickly pushes the fabric of your panties to one side and plunges two large fingers inside you, the slickness of your entrance helping him ease the way. 

You scream, eyes flying open, at the unexpected, though not unwelcomed, change of tactics, your hips moving up as high as this position allows it, to get more of his fingers. He fucks you like this for a few thrusts before his fingers vanish and his hand smacks across your ass again. 

“Fuck!” you half cry, half moan, the new switch in moves taking you off guard once more. 

Two more slaps strike over each cheek before the fingers are back inside and fuck you with quick twists of Frank’s wrist. 

Your thighs are trembling with the onslaught of pleasure and pain, the two mixing together so perfectly that your brain can barely follow each time Frank changes pace or goes from fingering you, to spanking you. 

“Could watch you like this all night,” Frank rumbles, hitting both cheeks with slightly more force, heat and beautiful pain blossoming over your skin. “The way you love takin’ my fingers.” He fucks his fingers inside you and twists them, crooking them just right for you to scream again, never letting up from the fast rhythm that he’s using. “You love comin’ all over ‘em, right, Sweetheart?” 

A new slap lands over your thighs this time, over the skin between the stockings and the lace of the panties, before his fingers are back between your legs. You nod, gasping and panting, mouth slightly open against the couch as you mewl, hips and thighs trembling. 

“Think you can handle it, huh? But you know I ain’t done with ya, right?” Frank questions, though he leaves you with no doubt when he pushes a third finger alongside the two others, making you keen shrilly. “Far from it,” Frank growls, as you come hard and without warning on his fingers. 

While your body’s still quivering from your release, you dimly feel how the hand that Frank had on your wrists lets go, at the same time that his fingers slip from inside you. Your eyes are closed as you pant against the couch, sensing Frank moving under you, his hard length rocking against your belly as he does so. You feel boneless, so you let Frank do as he pleases, mind still in a haze of bliss. When Frank extracts himself from under you and stands from the couch, his hands move over your body, until you’re kneeling on the couch with your ass in the air but chest still on the pillows. He drifts his fingers over the hot skin of your ass and along your back, pushing your dress up and over your head so that you’re left in only your underwear. The fabric of the dress bunches around your wrists that have remained above your head, the belt still in place. 

Frank lets his fingers tickle down your spine until they’re at your hips. He leans over you, kissing his way over your shoulders, the sensations in such contrast to the ones he’d lavished upon you earlier. Your mind is still drifting in pleasure, so you don’t realize what’s happening until Frank’s cock is suddenly at your entrance, panties still pushed to the side, and fucking inside you with a hard thrust of his hips. Your eyes snap open at the same time a surprised yelp leaves your lips from Frank’s, yet again, unexpected actions, as well as from the sting of his teeth as he bites into the flesh of your shoulder. 

The belt and dress, as well as Frank’s quick and relentless thrusts, make it impossible for you to push onto your elbows again. You’re also still feeling the effects of your recent orgasm, so that you can only take what Frank is giving you. 

“Fuck, can feel you tightenin' around me so good, Sweetheart,” Frank growls from where he’s kneeling up behind you, right before a new slap cracks over one of your cheeks.

You cry out loudly, having fully abandoned the idea of trying to guess what Frank is going to do next. You’ve never seen him this lost in pure lust. You’ve experienced his wilder moments before, the more desperate ones. But not this absolute focus on wanting to take you apart with everything that he has. Toeing with the limits of your pain and pleasure. He had warned you, but although your body is trembling with over stimulation, only small whimpers and moans leaving you with his every powerful plunge inside you or hard slap over your ass, you want it all. The edge between pleasure and pain is beyond intense and making you delirious. 

You are down so deep, only feeling and taking, that you don’t realize that you’re suddenly coming again, thighs and knees shaking like crazy under Frank’s strong and quick thrusts as well as from the newest waves of burning pleasure. 

What registers with you, are the continuous words of praise that Frank speaks to you over and over, as well as his calloused fingers that grip your sensitive ass, until he stills behind you and he comes with a deep and heartfelt groan. 

As your mind slowly clears, you start feeling the numbness in your arms after keeping them in a strange position for so long. Frank helps you gently up as you push to your elbows and starts untangling the mess of fabric and belt from around your wrists. Frank works while sitting back on his calves, with you in his clothed lap, his cock still inside you. 

You rest your head on Frank’s shoulder, eyes closed, and let your arms fall to your sides when Frank is done untying you. Frank wraps his arms around your middle and strokes his nose against the side of your neck. You smile slowly and tilt your head to the side for more. When his lips take the place of his nose, and they glide to your jaw, you turn your head to face his and meet him in a slow and languid kiss. 

“Lesson learnt?” Frank asks, voice still gruff from release, after the kiss comes to an end.

You lick your lips sluggishly and laugh. 

“What do you think?” 

Frank snorts. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also letting you guys know that this fic will be the last one for the time being. I might be posting some drabbles over on Tumblr but nothing longer.  
> I became a mom for the second time in December and won't have the time for anything else but my daughter.  
> Thank you for sticking with me for so long 🧡🧡🧡
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://anna-hawk.tumblr.com/)


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